I've managed to take advantage of spending more
time at home and finished another Metamor Keep story.
Metamor Keep: First Day on Patrol
by Charles Matthias
June 30, 708 CR
Elvmere lifted a paw from where he crouched at
the feet of his lady, chittering to capture her
attention. But he always had her attention, and
the gentle smile returned to him, made him swell
in proportion, rendering the beastly noises into
words. My Lady, will we be safe?
Softness touched her eyes and one hand gently pet
down his fur between his ears. Her lips moved to
open, and then she shut them into an even wider smile.
The raccoon craned upward, paws pressed against
one alabaster thigh, snout and whiskers straining
for her oval face. He did not know if he retained
any human semblance. All he knew was his Lady.
Her hand curled around his ears and then under
his muzzle. She leaned over, locks of raven-black
hair cascading across her shoulders and onto his
back. Her lips drew near as if to gently kiss his
nose, but demurred only inches away. Voluminous
blue eyes captured him. Her voice, sweet as honey
and gentle as silk, lathered his ears. My
Elvmere. Be not afraid. You are protected. She
brushed with the tip of one finger across the
black mask around his eyes and face. Fight bravely, my Elvmere.
The raccoon blinked open his eyes into the gloom
of the men's acolyte chamber. He stared into a
long-nosed and broad headed face. Large
horse-like ears were lifted and turned toward
him. As the nepenthe of dream faded, Elvmere
recognized the face of his friend, Tamsin
hin'Feros. The long pig-like snout hanging in
front of his mouth, the large equine ears, the
thin gray hide, and the short mane running from
the top of his head down between his shoulders marked him as a tapir.
It's time, Elvmere. Get your gear and let's go.
Must we leave before dawn prayers? Elvmere
asked as he sat up. His legs dangled off the bunk
above the tapir's own. If he stretched his arms
up he could almost brush his claws against the
ceiling and its ancient frescoes. Acolytes from
some forgotten era had painted scenes from the
lives of the gods but most were now faded and
covered in candle soot. Whenever they had
artisans of sufficient skill among the acolytes
they were cleaned and restored, but the few among
the order were all women and so the men's
chambers were left untouched for the nonce.
Tamsin lifted his snout in a muffled laugh. You
heard Captain Dallar, we must assemble at the barracks by dawn.
I know, Elvmere whispered. He yawned and
stretched, tongue curling and lolling out between
his teeth. How long have you been awake?
Long enough to gather our scouting gear. Here.
Tamsin lifted a folded green uniform and handed
it to him. Elvmere took it and set it on his
feather pillow. Get dressed and meet me at the
temple front. I'll gather the rest of our things from the armory.
Elvmere nodded and shimmied out of his
nightclothes while his friend stepped tip-toe out
of the acolyte's chamber. They'd selected the
uniform from the barracks a few days before. It
had taken two candlemarks to make sure they had
one suitably sized for him. If they did run into
brigands or worse, it was best not to make it
easy for any to know they were anything other than Keep patrol.
He reached beneath his pillow and pulled out the
small medallion with the circle and arrow symbol
of Dokorath inscribed. Elvmere sighed and in the
dark stared at it. Priestess Merai had gifted it
to him last night after they'd returned from the
barracks. It had been blessed and touched with
the blood of sacrifice by both Merai and the
Lothanasa. He cradled it in awe and a sense of shame.
I'm not worthy of Dokorath's blessing. I'm not
brave. I didn't even believe Dokorath was a god a
year ago. Will he truly protect me?
Elvmere lifted the medallion to his snout,
fingers cradling it so he could see every curve
of the bronze inscription. Gold limned the symbol
but in the darkness even his eyes could see no
glint. He took a deep breath and recalled the
beam of pride in Merai's eyes when she bid him
kneel. He had not hesitated, and around his neck
she'd draped the medallion and intoned a prayer of blessing and protection.
If not my devotion, than Priestess Merai's will
suffice. Dokorath, guide my hand and heart. Help
me serve, and in battle help me protect my
friends. Dokorath, I entrust myself to you.
Elvmere kissed the medallion and slipped it over
his head. The metal bounced against his chest and
even through his fur was cool. He sighed and
dressed himself in the scouts uniform. It fit
comfortably with enough give for climbing and
crawling but not too loose to interfere with
fighting. He could probably easily squirm out of
it into his feral form if he so chose.
Once dressed he climbed out of his bunk and left
the acolyte's chamber, the only sound the grumble
and grunt of snores. He carried the boots they'd
given him as he preferred to walk on his paws.
He'd not worn shoes on his journey with Malger
and Murikeer except when he'd had to, thickening
and toughening his soles. Shoes or boots of any
sort felt uncomfortable; he wore sandals in the
temple because it was expected of an acolyte. He
would wear the boots if their patrol Captain insisted.
Tamsin was at the temple entrance as promised, a
buckler around his waist and shoulder with a
sword strapped to his left and a dagger to his
right. He held another in one hand and offered it
to the raccoon. You look like you were made for patrol, Elvmere.
Because I'm a raccoon; they live in forests like
those of Metamor. He took the buckler and
managed to strap it on without assistance. The
weight of the sword and dagger were familiar
after weeks of guard duty and marching around
Metamor's halls. I'm still not sure how well I'll do, but I'm ready.
Tamsin patted him on the shoulder and lifted his
snout in a smile. Of course you are. One last prayer before we go?
He smiled. Aye, one last prayer!
----------
Dawn had arrived but the sun still lay hidden
behind the Barrier Mountains. The sky was a clear
blue from eastern to western peaks with halos of
white where the snow-capped summits reflected
rays only they could see. Along the valley all
was bathed in a shadowless gray. Warmth already suffused the air.
Though colors were muted without the sun, the
scents of Metamor's varied population and the oil
and grease of armor and steel weapons were all
the more powerful. Elvmere could smell the ram
captain and his fellow soldiers and knew where
they waited before he saw them. Before they
rounded the side of the barracks as they made
their way around the Keep grounds, the raccoon
gave one last tug to his buckler to keep it straight.
Ah, excellent, Tamsin, Elvmere, you're here.
The ram had a pipe between his flat teeth which
he spoke around. Join the others for last
inspection. If everyone is ready, we will be able to leave in a few minutes.
Captain Dallar, Tamsin inclined his head, long
ears folded backward, I trust we are not late?
The ram shrugged. The solstice was a week ago;
we'll have more than enough time to begin. The Keep make you go roundabout?
We had more prayers and more gods to offer them
too than we expected. Tamsin gave Elvmere a
slight nudge in the arm which the raccoon dodged.
Dallar chuckled around his pipe as the two
acolytes found their place next to a very young
woodpecker. The woodpecker was wearing a green
tunic with a baldric to which his supplies were
hooked but no trousers. His black tail fanned out
behind him while his dark talons clawed
uncertainly at the ground. Bright yellow eyes met
them for a moment before casting back toward the patrol captain.
Dallar dumped the ashes out of his pipe, ground
them beneath a dark cloven hoof, and tapped his
pipe bowl against one curling horn before
slipping it into one of the pouches along his
buckler. His white wool was short and must have
been sheared a month back. He like the rest bore
the green uniform of Metamor's patrols, his with
the captain's bar emblazoned on his breast
beneath the horse-head heraldry of the Hassan
house. One two-fingered hand rested upon the
pommel of a heavy sword hanging from his left
hip. His dark eyes swept across the soldiers,
only half of which bore themselves with any seasoning.
I know for some of you this is your first
patrol. Let me set your fears at ease; you are
joining an experienced team. We have been in the
field together since last Autumn and have been
nearly everywhere in the valley already. We are
going to be making a two-week sweep of the fiefs
and villages south of the Keep. We'll stop in
Lorland for a few days before making rounds
through Goffs Oak, Ticehurst, Sawtry, and Iron
Mine. We're going to spend some time on the roads
and some in the fields and forests. The Summer
Festival ended six days ago; the worst I expect
to see is a few stragglers who haven't figured
out the festivities are over and a few merchants
who stayed too long. There may be brigands, but
they usually stay near Jetta and Llancarfan at
the valley mouth to avoid the Curse; we won't be
going so far south. Honestly, the most combat I
expect to see is helping village-folk keep peace
by braining drunkards or capturing poachers and thieves.
But I do expect each of you to fight if we must.
I and my men will help each of you learn your
strengths. Other than Van, he nodded toward a
human boy who looked thirteen in size, but thirty
in the twist of his lips and confidence in his
eyes. And Maud, he said with another nod toward
a human woman who stood next to the towering
giraffe. Other than them, all of you are animal
cursed. You will each have things you can do no
human could hope to do. Going on patrol is the
best way to learn what they are. Now, other than
my unit, I know Tamsin there has patrol
experience. Tamsin, I expect you to help the rest.
The tapir lifted his snout and grinned. It will be my honor, Captain.
Good! Now, stand ready for inspection.
As soon as he said this the two hawks, giraffe,
woman, boy, and tapir all stiffened their backs
and stood half-a-hand higher the giraffe
probably stood a hand higher, he was almost twice
Elvmere's height and the raccoon wondered how he
could even fit inside. The others the
woodpecker at his side, a brown-furred ram, and a
blue-red speckled lizard all did their best to
stand the same way. Elvmere was grateful for the
Temple guard duty he'd been on the last two weeks
as he managed to comfortably hold the pose. His
tail twitched from side to side, but the rest of
him remained still, even his whiskers.
Dallar walked down the line of soldiers, stopping
to check weapons and gear. He was rigorous with
the soldiers in his unit but completely silent.
When he came to the lizard, after looking over
his weapons, Dallar gestured to the pack he
carried and asked, Wyaert, do you have enough to
keep warm? We have cold days in the Summer,
especially in the forests and mountain foothills.
The lizard a tokay Elvmere remembered cracked
his wide jaws and said in a croaking voice, I
have an extra set of garments in my pack, Captain. I'm ready.
Good, good! Dallar offered the tokay a smile
before striding to the other ram, one whose horns
were only as long as the raccoon's fingers.
Elvmere remembered from the night before when
they'd first met with Dallar and the team the
other ram had transformed only a few months
before. His coat was hairy like a goat, but the
face, other than the color, was much like Dallar's own.
Sedric, have you bracers for your legs? With all
the walking we're going to do, it will help keep
your muscles strong. I know what it is to have hooves.
Oh, nay, I have none, Captain! Uh, where do I find some?
I'll give you a pair of mine in a moment.
Dallar had nothing to say to the woodpecker only
offering him a nod of the head before moving on
to the raccoon. Elvmere took a deep breath and
pressed his thumbs into his fingertips rubbing
the claws one across the other as the ram looked
him up and down. After a short perusal, he
chuffed and said, Tamsin has taught you well, Elvmere.
Elvmere felt his chest swell at the praise even
as he exhaled in relief. His breath caught again
when Dallar pointed at his feet. You have almost
human feet; why aren't you wearing the boots I gave you?
I am more comfortable without them. I've walked
the length of Sathmore barefoot. I do have the
boots in my pack... in case it rains.
Dallar snorted and nodded. You'll want them if
it does, lad. Very good. The ram moved to the
tapir, but his scrutiny of Tamsin was even
quicker. He then clapped his hands together, the
hoof-like nails making a clacking sound in
addition to the normal clap. All right, we've a
long way to go, let's get to it. Van, Maud,
gather the pack horses and secure the food.
Weyden, Jessica, Myrwyn, stow your gear and
follow us in the sky. Sedric, come with me. The
rest of you wait here. We'll be leaving in a few minutes.
The woodpecker lowered his beak and chirped
something under his breath before walking with
bobbing head toward the two hawks. Dallar led
Sedric into the barracks, while Van and Maud went
into the stables around the corner. Tamsin
stretched his arms and legs and chortled. Elvmere
turned to his friend and tapped one finger atop
the Dokorath medallion beneath his green patrol tunic. You've taught me well.
Tamsin flashed him a snout-raised grin. Like I
said, you were made for patrol!
Heh, we'll know in two weeks I suppose.
Stop fretting. Or do you need another twenty prayers before we go?
Dokorath probably welcomes the devotion!
Tamsin nodded and chortled, stomping a three-toed foot. Oh aye he does.
----------
Elvmere was surprised at how quickly they
traversed both Keeptowne and Euper to reach the
well-traveled road south through the valley. One
minute he and Tamsin were jesting outside the
barracks and the next they were walking two by
two with a pair of pack horses through the city
streets as merchants and vendors gathered to
begin their day. Dallar set a quick pace the
raccoon found easy to match; it carried them
through the streets before those merchants
clogged them with booths and wagons. And as they
were a Metamor patrol, they passed through each
city gate with smiles and waves. In two
candlemarks the tough soles of his feet and the
claws of his toes were digging in the hard-packed dirt outside the walls.
Dallar led them down the road for another
candlemark before stopping. The road kept
straight with cleared fields on either side the
entire time. Rolling hills dotted the countryside
and where the road crossed over these stone walls
had been built to keep the road clear and level.
They passed a few shacks for guards and travelers
caught in the rain fashioned from woods. When
they reached the first watch tower the ram bade
them halt. We'll stop here for a few minutes. It
is good to get word about the road ahead. Tamsin,
Elvmere, see the guards in the tower and find the
news. I'll wave our birds down; we can talk
briefly when you return. Sedric, Wyaert, I want
you both to practice with your swords as we wait.
Elvmere watched the tokay and brown ram shrug off
their packs and reach for their swords, before
turning to follow his friend toward the tower.
The others kept their packs on, but the giraffe
did recline against the wall to watch.
The tower was fashioned from three pylons around
a fourth that rose like a pyramid, crossed
together with scaffolding, and then spreading
apart to cradle a cupola with a roof of wooden
slats. The cupola was open to the air on every
side and he could smell a faint odor of woodsmoke
within. Pounded into one of the slanted pylons
were iron rungs; these ran all the way up before
switching to the central pylon. Elvmere put a
hand over his eyes as he followed them up to what
must have been a trap door in the bottom of the cupola.
You first, Tamsin said as they walked toward
the ladder. Raccoons like being in trees, don't they?
I do actually, Elvmere admitted. On a few days
free of Temple duties, he'd ventured into the
Keep gardens as a normal raccoon and reclined in
the branches, hidden from the many Keepers going
about their business. There was something
comforting about the feel of his claws in the
bark and it set his mind and heart at ease.
The watch tower was even easier to climb. He
zipped up the rungs even with his pack still on
his back, and after half-a-minute was knocking on
the bottom of the trap door. Tamsin was several
rungs below him, chortling at his speed. He heard
the sound of boots above him and a metal latch
drawing open. The door swung upward and Elvmere
put his hands on either side of the opening and
pulled himself through. The edge of his pack
bumped the floor once before he leaned forward and slipped inside.
There were two guards in the cupola, one of them
a human man, and the other a gray-furred wolf.
The man stood next to the trap door and the
central pylon. Welcome; not here to relieve us I suppose?
No, we're on patrol to the south, Elvmere
replied, offering both guards what he hoped was a
warm smile. He tried not to lift his jowls too
much as he did so. Even Metamorians sometimes
misunderstood when an animal Keeper showed their
fangs. How long have you been here?
Since midnight, the human replied with a shrug.
Our relief should come in an hour or so. Want to know about the roads then?
Aye, have there been many travelers? Elvmere
moved to the edge so he could peer out over the
field and road. Tamsin grunted as he scrambled
his bulk through the trap door. The wolf watched
them without making any sound other than the
rustling of fur as his tail wagged.
Nothing more than local farmers going about
their day. See for yourself. The human soldier
stepped behind Elvmere and gestured with
outstretched arm to the south. The forests that
dominated the hilly lands just south of Metamor
continued for a short distance before giving way
to cleared fields that flanked the river south of
a rocky defile. Thatch homes dotted the
cultivated fields with their rows of wheat and
vegetables. The forests clung to the mountain
foothills and in the midst of one rise he saw
another watchtower. When he squinted he thought
he could see another past the farms, but the eyes
of a raccoon were not meant for such distances.
Staring out across the fields and forest south of
the Keep framed by mountains on either side,
Elvmere could not help but recall his first foray
from Metamor over a year past. The whole venture
seemed ludicrous to him, but he'd trusted his
Lady when she told him it was time to go. He even
walked barefoot as she'd instructed him and
refused to ride a horse or in wagons except for
the brief times when he'd been given no choice
the time they'd be pressed into service in the
mountains of southern Sathmore to repel an
invasion from Breckaris sprung to mind. It had
also been the first time he'd accepted the name
his Lady had bestowed upon him Elvmere.
It was strange to admit, but the name suited him
better than the one he'd been born with. At
least, it suited the young raccoon he now was
better than the old man he'd been only two years before.
Elvmere leaned against the wooden railing, claws
idly digging at the wood, ears turned toward the
air. The scent of human and wolf was strongest,
but the pleasant spice of pine drifted up along
the breeze. He could even hear the sweet songs of
birds nesting and freshly hatched chicks begging
for their meal. The clanging of swords from below
and the murmuring of Tamsin and the other two soldiers completed the symphony.
He took a deep breath and let it out slow,
languorous, and satisfied. Elvmere felt a faint
surprise but deeper delight. He was looking
forward to the next two weeks of patrol.
Hey, Elvmere, Tamsin called. He turned; the
tapir had his arms crossed with a wide grin on
his snout. He stood in front the forest side
wall, a contraption with a wheel and ropes fell
away behind him. He nodded toward a bar hanging
off the rope. Have you ever tried one of these?
Elvmere shook his head. Nay, what is it?
Quick escape, Tamsin reached up and grabbed the
bar. Elvmere walked over and peered over the
railing. The pair of ropes descended at an angle
down to the edge of the woods. Guards can ride this down in a few seconds.
There's a second bar at the bottom, the wolf
interjected, stepping over to rest a paw-like
hand on the bar. Ride this one down and the other comes up.
Tamsin's grin widened. Care to try?
Elvmere laughed. All I do is hold on?
Aye. The wolf grinned and wagged his tail. Let
go and you'll break your legs, maybe more.
Elvmere nudged Tamsin in the side as he
straightened his sword then reached up for the
bar. He wrapped his fingers around the grip and
tensed his shoulders. You just don't want to climb down the ladder again.
Ladders are for going up!
The wolf patted the railing and then swept his
paw forward. Just step up to the ledge. Keep
your elbows bent or you can wreck your shoulders when you jump off.
Elvmere took a deep breath, stared out over the
drop, and chortled. Aye, never done this. He
put one foot on the railing, toes and claws
curling over the wood, and then jumped forward.
The rope whistled and the gears squeaked as he
rushed forward. His weight yanked down and he
felt a jolt through his elbows and shoulders but
he kept his body coiled and elbows bent. The air
zipped past and the trees and ground rushed
forward; his heart beat fast and his teeth ground
tight. He held out his feet as one large oak
zoomed at him. He connected with a well-worn part
of the bark, claws digging in. His knees and hips
bent with the impact. He bounced back, hands
letting go of the bar, collapsing on the ground.
He gasped and crawled away, shaking his head from the rush.
Akkala! He managed in between gasps, begging
the goddess of healing for his breath back.
He managed to stand and straighten his pack and
sword as another zipping resounded and Tamsin
struck the tree. The tapir jumped backward and
landed on his three-toed feet, gasping for only a
moment before laughing. I guess I should have
warned you about the landing. Hah! You did great!
Oh my! Elvmere gasped, hand to his chest as the
world settled back to normal around him. Aye, you should. Ow!
Tamsin! Elvmere! Enough foolishness! Dallar
shouted from the field near the tower. Elvmere
turned and was surprised to see they and the
tower were at least two hundred paces away. He
grunted and started off at a trot back toward the
others. Tamsin chortled for a moment as he
hurried to keep pace. By the time they reached
the rest of their patrol he'd caught his breath.
All three birds had landed and assumed their most
human shape, watching as the younger ram and the
tokay lizard traded blows. The two hawks were
near the giraffe and two humans trading comments,
while the young woodpecker perched upon the stone
wall by himself. The combatants reminded Elvmere
of his practice fights with Tamsin; the
brown-furred ram especially used simple moves and
used them over and over again while the tokay
seemed to swing his sword more like a hammer against stone.
Elvmere shrugged and smiled toward Dallar as they
approached. The ram shook his head and turned his
attention back to the combatants. Elvmere settled
next to the woodpecker and asked, How was the flight?
Myrwyn lowered his long beak to preen at the
feathers of his right wing arm. He lifted it a
moment later, wide yellow eyes fixed on him. The
air is pretty still today. I'm not as good as they are at flying.
Elvmere frowned. How long have you been cursed?
About three months now. You?
He grunted, though the excitement he still felt
from riding the rope down kept him from feeling
as much like an idiot as he knew he was.
Lothanasa Raven had forbade him from speaking of
his past from before he became Malger's
apprentice on their journey through Sathmore.
Asking another Keeper about when they became
cursed naturally meant they would ask him the
same. The true answer was not even two years
past, but so much had changed in those two years
he'd come up with a response both true and
evasive enough to forestall further inquiry.
Elvmere favored the woodpecker with a smile, even
as he put his hands behind his head and made a
show of looking back at the contest. Ah, it
seems a life time ago now. I was a different person then.
He almost needn't have worried because Myrwyn
merely bobbed his head and resumed preening the black feathers on his wings.
Dallar allowed the combatants to trade a dozen
more blows before bleating and waving his arms.
Enough for now! We've more road to cover today;
I'd like to be in Lorland by lunch. Elvmere, what of the roads ahead?
The raccoon blinked and turned to the south. It
looks clear, sir. Nothing but farmers we could see.
Good, good. Weyden said the same. Dallar
flecked his lips, revealing the flat teeth behind
them for a moment. Everyone gather your gear,
it's time to keep moving. Elvmere, you're with me
on point. Maud, Van, give Wyaert and Sedric some
pointers on fighting. Larssen, you and Tamsin
take the rear. Weyden, Jessica, Myrwyn, I want
two of you in the sky and the third riding with
our supplies for the rest of the trip. Switch
every candlemark so you can stay rested. Myrwyn,
you can take first rest. The woodpecker blew out a sigh of relief at the news.
Tamsin patted Elvmere on the shoulder and flashed
him a tooth-filled grin as he walked toward the
giraffe. Elvmere chittered under his breath and
turned toward the ram captain to begin the walk again.
----------
Dallar said nothing at all as they walked for at
least two candlemarks. They reached the
cultivated fields not long after resuming their
trek; short walls of rocks of all sizes fitted
together and others fashioned from long cuts of
wood marked off the fields for each of the farms.
Thatch huts dotted the land between them. Some of
the fields were left fallow, with sheep and
cattle grazing under the watchful eyes of shepherds.
The ram had them moving at an easy but steady
pace. Elvmere had no trouble keeping abreast and
from time to time could even savor the feel of
dirt between his claws and toes where freshly
turned fields overflowed onto the road. The
weight of the sword and pack were as comfortable
as the instruments had been when he'd traveled as Malger's apprentice.
He chuffed at the memory and his snout cracked in
a smile. For a moment he wished he could be
journeying from town to town with his master and
the skunk mage Murikeer again. It had been hard
days walking many miles only to play and sing for
hours to earn a meal and a place to sleep, and
sometimes all they had was a bitter gruel and a
smelly barn with rain-damp straw for a bed. He'd
remembered being very uncertain at first when
Malger offered to take him on as an apprentice
for the sake of appearances during their
pilgrimage through Sathmore. It was a land alien
to him and he in a body also alien to him.
Malger's confidence and Murikeer's selfless
charity had been a comfort to the anxious
raccoon. It had been easy to slip into the role
of apprentice. He'd enjoyed learning the many
instruments and to find the unexpected melody in
his own voice, despite Malger's lecherous taste in song.
I wonder, what if I had stayed his apprentice and
accompanied him on his journey to Sutthaivasse?
Would he still be teaching me music? Would I be
learning the sword from him instead of Tamsin and the patrols?
No, foolish thought, I couldn't have. It never
even occurred to me to think it. If I had... I
would... would not be Lothanasi now. I'd still be trying to be... Vinsah.
Elvmere chuffed again and shook his head; it was
best not to dwell on such things. Nostalgia was
often a poor judge of the times. Besides, if he
was going to let his mind wander from his patrol
duties then he should at least ponder something
useful like philosophy. Dallar noticed with a
slight turn to his one eye facing the raccoon.
His lips moved and in a grunt he asked, Are you well, Elvmere?
Aye, just remembering the last time I walked these roads.
As a minstrel's apprentice?
Aye. Elvmere let his eyes focus on the fields ahead.
Dallar rolled something around in his mouth a
moment before asking, How are you feet?
Good. I like the feel of dirt beneath them.
You should wear the boots for more than just
mud. In battle, an injured foot can kill you.
Elvmere shrugged the pack on his back, tail
flicking for a moment before nodding to the ram.
I am more comfortable without them, Sir, but if
you order me I will put them on.
Dallar's eye did not leave him, but his ears
lifted up against his horns in a caprine grin. I
will but not today. Tell me, how long have you been training for this patrol?
About a month. I've been on guard duty at the Temple these last two weeks.
Have you ever swung a sword before a month ago?
Elvmere shook his head. Not since I was a boy.
Dallar grunted. A young man your age, temple
acolyte or not, should know how to swing a sword.
And by the time this patrol is done, you will.
Aye, Sir, Elvmere nodded his head. If I may be
so bold, I hope we do not have to use our swords for aught but training.
You'd be a fool if you wanted anything else. You
don't carry yourself like a fool, even if you go
down the quick line without learning how to stop first.
Elvmere hissed between his teeth, a sudden heat
filling him at the casual way the ram had spoken.
Some of his muscles were still sore. They didn't tell me!
Dallar actually turned his head as they walked.
The ram's hooves made soft crunching noises on
the small rocks littering the road. He chuckled.
As I said, you don't seem a fool to me. Young,
but no fool. Have you been to Lorland before?
He gritted his fangs and chuffed, trying to laugh
at himself. I passed through here, but I've
never stopped at the town. How much further is it?
These fields and farms are Lorland, or at least,
it's northern lands. We should be at the barracks
in town in an hour. You'll come with me as we report in.
Report?
Aye, Metamor patrols must report to the barracks
in each town when we arrive. You'll see. This
will not be your last patrol, Elvmere. Perhaps
you'll enjoy it more than life as a temple
acolyte. Are you a disciple of Dokorath?
Elvmere lifted one hand and traced his claws over
the outline of the bronze medallion hiding
beneath his patrol tunic before reaching inside
and drawing it out. This? It was a gift from the
Lothanasa and Priestess Merai to protect me on my
first patrol. I am not Dokorath's disciple, but I
will give him my prayers and do him honor. I seek
his protection and his guidance. And bravery. I'm
not sure how much I have of my own.
You should talk with Weyden; he wants to be
Dokorath's disciple. Perhaps he can help you find your bravery.
Elvmere cast a quick glance at the sky but could
see neither the hawk nor the woodpecker flying
above. Behind them the black hawk perched upon
the wagons amiably chatting with the woman. I
will, when there is time. There will be time, Sir?
We've two weeks for patrol, Elvmere, we will all know each other better.
The raccoon nodded. Aye, in sooth. Could I have
a chance to walk with him later today? I'd really like to.
The ram chuffed and flicked one ear, eyes lifting
to the horizon. Beyond the hills ahead they could
see clusters of thatch-roofed huts, communal
barns, and the towers and walls marking the town
at the center of Metamor's most fertile land. I
don't see why not. Are you going to learn magic at the Temple too?
Elvmere nodded. Priestess Merai wants me to
begin training later this Summer or Fall.
Then speaking with Jessica could help too.
Perhaps she can teach you something. Even witchlights would be useful.
Aye, Elvmere felt a twinge in his heart.
Murikeer had offered to teach him magic when they
had traveled together a year ago. He had refused
of course; Patildor did not practice magic,
unless they were a member of a Southern mage
clan, or one of the other exceptions shoehorned
in so they could make converts. He chuffed at his
reluctance and bitterness and felt a strange
relief and youthful eagerness. What if he could
actually use magic too? He had wanted to try.
Aye, I really should. Thank you, Sir.
Dallar offered a faint smile, a slight curling of
the ends of his jowls, brightening of his eyes,
and lifting of his ears against his curling horns. Good man.
Elvmere walked a little taller.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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